


Five Times Kirk Didn't Want to Wear the Dress Uniform (and One Time He Didn't Mind)

by xxMOONLITsky



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:44:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxMOONLITsky/pseuds/xxMOONLITsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A five-times prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Kirk Didn't Want to Wear the Dress Uniform (and One Time He Didn't Mind)

_One_.

They had saved Earth (and possibly the rest of the galaxy) from Nero and the wayward Romulans. They had been welcomed home with honors (and diplomas, for those to whom it applied). Most of them had been given the  _Enterprise_  as their final assignment. However, word of what had occurred on the bridge that fateful day had reached Starfleet, and the Admirals weren't ones to just sit back and let transgressions go. There was to be a Court Martial held by Starfleet against Commander Spock for his actions against Captain (then Cadet) Kirk on the bridge. After the Court Martial was held, whatever punishment was doled up by the reigning Admiral on the case would be upheld.

Sitting in the main hall, dressed in his long gold dress uniform, James T. Kirk watched as Spock entered the room and stood behind the long table, facing the raised bench where the Starfleet Admirals were seated. It was odd, Kirk thought – despite the fact that he and Spock really hadn't gotten along well from the beginning, he didn't think that the Vulcan deserved a court martial.

"You agree that whatever the decision of this court martial is, you are forced to abide by said punishment?" Admiral Barnett asked.

"Yes. I will abide by whatever decision you deem fit," Spock replied.

Turning to the observing crowd, Admiral Barnett spoke.

"Is there anyone present who would like to present him or herself as a witness for the defense?"

Kirk heaved a sigh, while at the same time standing up and pulling on the bottom of his dress uniform.

"Yes, Admiral. Captain James T. Kirk,  _USS Enterprise_. I would like to present myself as a witness."

* * *

  _Two_.

It was a beautiful San Franciscan day; the sun was shining, there were hardly any clouds in the sky, and the temperature was hovering at around seventy-five degrees with a slight breeze. However, if the weather tallied with the emotions of the graduating cadets of Starfleet, Class of 2251, it really should have been pouring during the hurricane of the century. Today was Graduation Day. However, instead of being the largest class of cadets to ever graduate (as they had been upon entering), they had become the smallest.

Having been named Captain before the day of graduation, James T. Kirk, in his freshly pressed dress uniform, stood outside of the main hall in which the ceremony would take place, wearing the most depressed expression Bones had ever seen on him. Bones himself stood to Jim's left, also in full dress uniform (he would take on his duties as Chief Medical Officer of the  _Enterprise_ the next time it left spacedock), while Gaila stood on Kirk's right, wearing full cadet garb plus all the honors she had won for time served aboard the  _Enterprise_  during its saving-the-world mission. Since the time they had found each other and begun leaning upon this wall (approximately twenty minutes ago), not a single word had passed between them. Despite knowing that the three of them should have been inside long ago (the ceremony was due to start in five minutes, none of them felt the impetus to move.

"Why are we celebrating?" Gaila asked suddenly, turning from her end of the row to look at her friends.

"We're graduating," Bones replied simply, not turning his gaze from the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance.

"Yes. I was aware, Doctor. Let me rephrase the question, then. Why are we celebrating if our losses outweigh the gain?"

Kirk turned to look at the Orion. Gaila's head was cocked to one side, making her expression take on the innocence one only seemed to possess in childhood. However, despite the innocent expression, she made a good point.

"Gaila's right, Bones," he said, echoing his friend. "Today should be a day of mourning, not of celebration."

Bones turned to Jim with a questioning glance.

"Don't give me that look," Kirk said, a small smile quirking across his face. "Yeah, I wanna get out of here and back onto the  _Enterprise_  as much as you do. I just don't think today's the day for brightly colored dress uniforms, smiles, and champagne. Today should be a somber day; one of remembrance."

Kirk leaned back against the wall, staring out into the distance.

"I just don't think it's right."

Gaila quirked her head again, then smiled. Reaching down into the bag at her feet, she pulled out a long black scarf. Holding it out to Kirk, she spoke.

"Then we rebel," she said simply.

As the two men watched, she ripped the scarf into three pieces. Letting two of the three fall to the ground for a moment, she tied the remaining piece around her right arm like an armband.

"We may not be able to speak our minds, or change our clothes, but we can still illustrate our grief."

Kirk's eyes lit up as he reached down for the two remaining pieces of scarf on the ground by Gaila's feet. Handing one to Bones, he quickly tied the other around his right arm, then reached out to Gaila.

"Gaila, you're a genius."

Kissing her on the cheek, while at the same time shooting Bones a look that said,  _'Don't get offended,'_  Jim then gave the cadet a hug. Bones rolled his eyes, but made a mental note not to bring it up. Checking his watch, he spoke.

"It's time," he said, looking at his fellow graduates.

"Well, so we graduate," Jim said, looking back and forth between Gaila and McCoy. "But we do it while paying our respects."

With those final words, the three walked into the ceremonial hall.

* * *

  _Three_.

Standing on this desert-like world, Kirk noticed how empty it seemed. Yes, by definition, deserts often were empty. However, since the science of hydraulics and other related projects had advanced so rapidly in the previous century, a desert did not always have to be a barren wasteland. This desert-like world, hereby named New Vulcan by the people who bore the namesake, still seemed quite empty. What once had been a steady population of billions of Vulcans was now a rapidly shrinking one of ten thousand.

The remaining high ranking scholars and officials of Vulcan (plus both Spocks, Kirk took special notice) were standing about a central pillar that rose out of the ground some fifty feet high. Surrounding those of importance seemed (to Kirk) to be the remainder of the Vulcan population. What struck Jim wasn't the sheer number of people gathered, but the silence that rang out between them. For once, he began to understand how a silence could speak such volumes. Every time he shifted from foot to foot (he had been standing for quite a while now), Jim thought he could hear his dress uniform scratching against itself, the sound echoing throughout the cavernous silence.

It was hot as hell on this planet (after all, if Vulcan had been warmer than Earth, why shouldn't New Vulcan?), making Kirk even more uncomfortable in this dress uniform. He felt extremely stupid, dressed up to the nines, the only human in a crowd of grieving Vulcans. He hadn't wanted to attend this ceremony, ritual, or whatever Old Spock had termed it – he didn't remember – but for some reason, he couldn't get his mouth to spit out a refusal. So, he had put on the dress uniform, beamed down to New Vulcan, and here he stood. He wanted nothing more than to complain about everything, but upon catching the younger Spock's gaze briefly, he realized that being overheated in a dress uniform was nothing compared to the sorrow the former must feel at having lost his mother and his planet.

* * *

  _Four_.

"This is ridiculous, Bones!" Kirk shouted as he paced.

Dr. McCoy just heaved another sigh, and took a sip of the replicated glass of water that was sitting on the table next to them. For the past hour, he had been listening to the Captain rant about how ridiculous it was for the Federation to even  _entertain_  the idea of establishing a treaty with the Romulan Empire, let alone working one out here on the  _Enterprise_.

"…and it's not even like I can say no!" Kirk continued, not realizing that the CMO had only been half listening. "Barnett says I'm  _required_  to play host to these…these…"

"Romulans," Dr. McCoy put in, his tone even.

"That's one word for them," Kirk replied angrily, still pacing back and forth. "Killers was more the one I was looking for."

"You're still angry about Nero," Bones said quietly.

Kirk didn't reply.

"Jim, you can't hold an entire race responsible for the actions of one man. Because of Nero, your father sacrificed himself to save eight hundred others. However, denying the opportunity for peace between the Federation and Romulus isn't going to bring him back."

During Bones' speech, Kirk had stopped his pacing; he had picked up his glass of water and turned to stare out the window at the stars twinkling brightly in the inky sky outside the _Enterprise_. When McCoy finished, without making a sound, Jim hurled the glass as hard as he could against the nearest wall, then leaned back against the opposite one, shoulders shaking softly with the force of his sobs as he slid down the wall to the floor.

Bones put down his glass of water on the nearby table and left his seat to sit down on the floor next to the Captain. In all of the years that they had been best friends, Bones could count on one hand the number of times he had seen Jim Kirk cry. He had learned during those times that the best thing for him to do was remain silent but  _there_ , an anchor for which Jim could latch on to. Two minutes later, Jim took a deep breath, wiped his eyes, and turned to look at Dr. McCoy.

"Bones, what kind of captain cries over Romulans?" he asked, laughter in his voice.

"The kind that believes in putting family before all else," McCoy replied as he stood up.

McCoy offered Jim a hand, then helped pull his best friend to his feet. Taking one more deep breath, Kirk began heading for the door. Before the doors opened, however, he turned back to look at his best and closest friend.

"Thanks, Bones," he said quietly. "Don't know what I'd do without you."

McCoy nodded, then grinned.

"Crash and burn, most likely."

* * *

  _Five._

The invitation had come through on his PADD two weeks earlier, and for a week and six days, he had done his best to ignore it. He knew the day was coming (it was marked in extremely small writing on the calendar on the wall), but the plan was to not acknowledge it until he absolutely had to. He hadn't seen much of the man since becoming Captain of the  _Enterprise_ , but that didn't mean that the older gentleman still didn't hold a special place in Kirk's heart (not that he would ever tell  _anyone_  that – except maybe Bones, and he'd have to be extremely drunk). After all, it was because of Pike's words of wisdom that had caused Jim to join Starfleet in the first place. God only knew what would have happened had he not gotten into that brawl in that bar on that very night, picking a fight with one of Pike's cadets. Had Pike not intervened, he most likely would have continued with his on-again, off-again education, have gotten into many, many more bar brawls, and most likely ended up in jail. However, that timeline would never play out.

Instead, in this timeline, for one of the few times that he could remember, Jim Kirk rose before the sound of his alarm, shutting it off and allowing Bones a few more minutes sleep than normal. (Bones could be dressed and ready to go in ten minutes, if need be, so there was no reason as to why he shouldn't get more time to sleep in.) As Jim quietly walked over to the closet, pulled open the door, and stared at the dress uniform on the hanger, he wished to whatever deity might be listening that, right now, he could be anywhere other than here. It wouldn't matter if he was getting the shit beaten out of him by some local at the bar, or trapped in a prison on an alien planet, or watching the  _Enterprise_  warp through space to some unknown destination; any of those alternatives would be better than the one he was currently facing.

_"I dare you do to better."_

The words rang out in Kirk's head, so loudly and clearly, it was almost as if Pike himself had spoken them. Taking a deep breath, he reached into the closet and pulled out the dress uniform. Pike was the closest thing to a father figure he'd ever had, and damn if he'd miss the ceremony of the day he retired.

* * *

  _And The One Time He Didn't Mind…_

James T. Kirk stepped out of the shower (a  _real_  shower, not the stupid sonic showers that the  _Enterprise_  had – he really should suggest to Starfleet that they install a real one onboard), towel wrapped around his waist, and looked himself over in the mirror. The reflection that stared back at him was handsome, talented (in more ways than one – more than half the _Enterprise_ 's crew could attest to that), and confident. His eyes twinkled in excitement for the events of the day to come.

The  _Enterprise_  had docked in Spacedock above Earth three hours earlier, allowing some of the senior members of his bridge crew to beam down to Yosemite National Park. The plan was for those members to prepare for the ceremony while the main people involved got dressed and ready while still on the  _Enterprise_.

Bringing his mind back to the day at hand, Kirk took another look in the mirror. He had faced many adventures to date, not the least of which involved saving the Earth before even having graduated from the Academy. However, none of that was really important. Granted, it was important in the grand scheme of Starfleet happenings, but in the scheme of  _his_  happiness, it no longer was the main source of enjoyment.

Kirk smiled as he opened his closet door and stared at the green dress uniform that hung in its usual spot. Every other time, he'd come up with some excuse as to why he didn't want to wear it: it was itchy, it didn't look good, he didn't want to go to whatever ceremony he was being required to attend. However, today was different. Today was the day that (believe it or not) James T. Kirk was getting married. Growing up, he had thought that, had anyone told him he was going to get married some day, that that specific individual was in need of some serious medical attention. Now, though – all that had changed. Actually, it had begun changing that very first day on the shuttlecraft leaving for the academy. He had no idea that the gruff, angry, country doctor sitting next to him, whose first words were "I may throw up on you," would turn out to be his best friend, lover, and soon…husband.

Throwing an eye towards the clock on his bedside table, Jim noticed that it was almost time to leave. As he reached into the closet and pulled the dress uniform off of its hanger, he realized that  _this_  time, he didn't mind wearing it.


End file.
